Tormented Volition
by bcbdrums
Summary: Random drabbles about a certain friendship. Each one is based upon some event in my own life, regarding my friendships, because I need an outlet. Updated irregularly, as inspiration comes to me. NOTE: This series is on hiatus indefinitely.
1. Missing You

I stare at the empty chair across from me. A thin layer of dust has accumulated on the dark cushions. The flickering firelight emphasizes the depth of that empty chair, revealing how deeply important and necessary to me is the person who should be occupying it.

I sink back into my own seat, wreaths of smoke drifting up and around my head, drawing my thoughts forward with startling clarity. I have found...there is something more torturous than ennui.

If Watson ever leaves me again, even for as brief a time as a week's holiday, I am going with him.

* * *

_A/N: Glad you're home Amanda. I missed you..._


	2. My failure or yours?

What is this feeling? It claws to escape my chest like a flame, and yet buries itself deep within like the roots of a mighty oak.

Suffering. True suffering.

My heart tells me what is true, but that empty chair is empty forever now. I feel your absence is due to my failing, even though I gave you everything.

But…then among my self-reproach, a voice speaks to me, telling me no. You dug your own grave. I could have done nothing. You were destined to die fighting, and my powers couldn't have prevented it.

I couldn't change who you are.

* * *

_A/N: This time, it's Watson. After Reichenbach. Sometimes the offering of friendship isn't enough. Especially if the person doesn't want to be saved._


	3. Not really apart

_A/N: And now, for something completely different! Random drabbles!_

_Well, not completely random. They are all themed in friendship, but indeed, they are quite random. Just thought I'd clarify :)_

_This one was inspired by the holiday, and KCS's series, "Can You Hear Me Now?" And Kai ;)_

* * *

The even scratching of my pen on paper. His quiet mumblings to himself as he works out his thoughts.

The static.

And then the clock strikes twelve.

"Goodness…is that the time?" he says through the wire.

"Yes it is," I reply, smiling at his unease, "Happy New Year, Holmes."

A brief silence. "…Happy New Year."

Almost immediately the rustling of papers begins again and his mumblings continue faintly as he sets the transmitter back upon the table. But I know the receiver is still tucked under his ear.

Who says friends must be in the same room to be together?


	4. Free him

When they call, he must go. There is no choice involved.

His patriotism is true, but his dedication to our beloved nation is not deserved by those who would exploit him for their gains. His own desires and dreams are suppressed, for he must give his all for them. His life, for King and Country.

I delight in those days when he telephones, bringing life to my sequestered existence. And I bring him life as well, for what is his life when he is on their bill, his mind to _their_ purpose alone? Is he any more than a slave?

* * *

_A/N: Ha-ha! Another ambiguous one! Take a second look, it could be either of them speaking, couldn't it, eh? What do you think?_

_Kind of inspired by some of KCS's works... And some other stuff._


	5. Keep smiling

_A/N: Kind of continued from the last one; a little telephone conversation._

_What can I say, KCS? It's quite the brilliant idea..._

_Oh, and, this is ambiguous again ;)_

* * *

"How are you?"

"Well enough."

"You sound tired."

"They keep me busy, as always."

"Are you getting enough sleep?"

"Not really… You know, you sound like Mrs. Hudson?"

"Are you well? Last time we talked you were ill…"

"I'm still ill. For heaven's sake, you're _worse_ than Mrs. Hudson!"

We laughed mutedly.

"…I'm afraid I must go."

"Mm. The usual time then?"

"Ah, no. I'm afraid I have to work."

"Well, until the _next_ time," I said cheerily, wanting to keep his spirits up.

There was a brief silence as we clung to each others' presence.

"Bye Watson."

"Bye Holmes…"


	6. Laugh out loud

"I don't understand what you're saying!"

"Well _I_ don't understand what _you're_ saying!"

We were standing face to face, glaring at each other. We had been fighting over who knows what for a good half hour now and were both at the end of our nerves.

"Well at least I'm trying to understand!"

"So am I!"

There was a brief pause as realization hit us both.

"I only want to help…"

"…So do I."

We looked at each other helplessly for a long moment, and slowly began to laugh. Friendship was a strange and confusing phenomenon. Definitely worth the effort.

* * *

_A/N: Mm...just some randomness._


	7. Rest in peace

_A/N: This one is 150 words, because 100 just wasn't enough. And, it's ambiguous again ;)_

* * *

"…I had the most curious dream," I said to my friend, who was strangely standing over my bed. I was too tired to question the fact though, and relaxed back into my pillow.

"Oh?"

"Yes…there were geese everywhere, flapping their filthy wings in my face, and then…I woke up and looked out the window, and the land was covered in an ethereal frost—"

At that moment I opened my eyes to look at him, but the room was empty, and my feather pillow lay around me in tatters. There was indeed a frost outside, cold and lifeless as the air in the room. I closed my eyes again, brushing the stray down from my face.

"You're not really here, are you?"

"No," he laughed.

"But, you are?"

"Only in your dreams, my friend."

"…Why?" I said drowsily.

"To guard you when your mind may betray you."

"Oh…I see……"

"Goodnight…"


	8. Neither sleep

He lies there, in apathy. And I worry.

Each day his mind battles for life and death as he stays listless upon the sofa, withdrawing deeper into himself until he is beyond recognition.

What is happening behind those grey eyes? I do not believe even he knows the truth.

I watch, sometimes silently sometimes not. I don't know if my words help or if I should just let him work out the problem himself. But until he does, I toss and turn at night wondering if the next day he will reach for his violin, or for the cocaine bottle.

* * *

_A/N: Poor Holmes... *sigh*_


	9. Gone

_A/N: Continued from the last..._

* * *

I do believe I am getting sick. But whether I caught a cold from a patient, or whether my mental stress is finally taking its toll on my physical health I do not know.

Sherlock Holmes's mental stresses won him over long ago, and each day I watch him drown. There are moments when that twinkle is still in his eye, but I've slowly been watching it fade.

I am always concerned over his health, but my own breaking point came when I could no longer recognize him, and for all my efforts he remained lost.

What can I do?


	10. Conceding defeat

I will die of despair. Or he will. Perhaps both of us.

He goes through the daily motions, but his spirit is lifeless. His ennui has overpowered him, and he is beyond all aid.

In this I discover the true pain of love, as I am forced to watch and am powerless to help. It's almost as if we were standing on opposite sides of unbreakable glass, and neither of us is strong enough to break through.

So now I too lie listless, my worries and fears rapidly sending me to black depression. Overwhelming. Inescapable. The beginning of the end.

* * *

_A/N: Well...sorry to be depressing, but, I am quite depressed..._

_I got this at 100 words on my first try though._


	11. Mistake

_A/N: I'm not continuing the last thread of these just yet. I'm pausing for another tiny excerpt from my novel, which sort of follows my fic 'Unexpected' with a few in-between scenes left out. Also, this is 150 words, as 100 just wasn't enough._

* * *

Familiar images came to my mind as I sat on my bed and slowly opened the Morocco case; the darkness, the shadows cast by the dusty furniture, the stale air in the room of an evil summer night…

I did not want to revisit that place, even in memory ever again. It was best to leave it buried.

Perhaps this drug too, but somehow, I felt myself compelled to fill the syringe with the clear liquid. My mind protested the action, but there was no stopping it once the process had begun.

The familiar feeling of the needle didn't even make me blink, nor did the sight of blood. But when that sensation reached my brain I suddenly sank back against the wall in shock.

I tossed the vial of cocaine in the waste bin and replaced the syringe in its case. How Holmes could endure this I'll never know.

* * *


	12. Pay attention

_A/N: Continued from chapter 10, as well as from Kai's second chapter of Miscellanea._

* * *

"More tea Holmes?"

"Mm…"

"Holmes?"

"Mm, what?"

"Never mind."

I smiled as Holmes perused the agony columns of the morning post. When the working fit was upon him, nothing could move him from the task. It was quite a change from his apathetic mood of late, and my own spirits had greatly improved just from watching my friend's recovery.

"Holmes, pass the salt please?"

"Mm…"

It occurred to me as I spilled my tea reaching for the salt, that though he was returning to his usual self, he could stand to be a bit more sociable. At least with me.


	13. Free time

"Watson?"

I sighed. "Yes Holmes?"

"What are you doing?"

"Writing."

"Oh…"

That was the fifth time in an hour he had asked that question. I understood he was bored without a case, and I certainly didn't want him to fall prey to temptation while in such a state. But I did need time to myself.

"...It's a lovely evening. Why...don't we take a stroll and have an early dinner?"

I put my pen down (a bit harshly I'm afraid) and went for my coat. Some things I would not miss when I finally moved to my new Paddington practice.


	14. Nothing will stand in the way

"Holmes?"

"Leave me alone!" I growled and stormed into my room. I did not have time for his trivialities. This case was far too complex for me to allow anything else in my mind, even the cordialities of a friend.

I did feel slight remorse for neglecting him…but my work, my work! I had to work, and now my work needed me. There was a new evil corrupting London. I could feel it, crawling beneath the streets, into my very blood.

Watson…would understand in time, that my work was essential. Not just to London, but to my own existence.


	15. Confusion

I sit with an open book in my hand, but my eyes are unfocused. My mind has been set to one thing all day.

He is out on a case. A dangerous one.

But I am not with him. He brought…that inspector.

And I wonder…am I worth anything?

…

My heart breaks each time he says the name of another with a smile. I have to fight against rage.

Doesn't he know?

I don't know why I expect him to… His heart is made of a stone that I've struggled to crack. And now that I have…or, think I have…he would give himself to someone else?

The most logical and powerful brain in the world…and he still does not understand love.

* * *

_A/N: This one's 125 words, because I'm lazy... And, if this sounds slashy to anyone it is NOT intended to be. It's kind of ambiguous...I think people can figure it out though._


	16. Solace

_A/N: Okay, I know KCS wrote something like this a few days ago, but I had the idea before reading her drabble so.....yeah. Hers is far better anyway... Drabbles are hard, and I'm out of practice _:P

* * *

A doctor's schedule is strict, but there is always some emergency to alter it. A detective's schedule is unpredictable, and leaves me wondering if I will even get to see my friend some days.

Most mornings I am gone before he wakes, but occasionally it is the other way around. Yesterday, I received a brief telegram updating me on his status at noontime, just as I was about to begin a surgery.

But evenings…

We sit before the fire, simply enjoying the company of a friend, relishing the presence of one who understands, until we sink into a peaceful sleep.


	17. Weakness

"Please…"

"It's too late…" I had answered him, and disappeared into my room to inject myself with the drug Watson desperately hated. Or rather, my use of it.

I don't remember what caused me to become depressed… Nor do I remember when the thought to take the drug occurred to me. But once it had, the need for it overtook my mind. The subconscious knowledge that its distraction would relieve my apathy drove my actions, completely beyond my control.

But taking it now…I am not satisfied. I feel weak, and more depressed than before.

And I've hurt a friend.

* * *

_A/N: Random thoughts...wondering if they're in-character or not. You tell me._


	18. Struggle

"My life is pointless!"

"You know that isn't true."

"I do nothing for days! I have no work!"

"Yes, you do—"

"Trifles! Even you could reason them out!"

"…Thanks."

"I may as well be dead, for all the worth my life is…"

"Holmes…think of all you've accomplished."

"The past is past, and I have no future."

"This will pass…just be patient."

"That is difficult to do when I am unable to accomplish anything."

"Then think of what you will accomplish in the future. I know it's difficult, but…you know it is true."

"I...I can't."

* * *

_A/N: To be continued..._


	19. Unknown

It was not uncommon for Sherlock Holmes to disappear without word for unusual lengths of time. I naturally could not entirely restrain my worry, but he always came back with some tale to tell. So I was able to manage the distress that came from not knowing his whereabouts.

But after yesterday…

The argument had gone on, sometimes with his logic winning and others with it failing. By the end of the day, I had been confident he would be fine.

But now…he's gone. I know for a grim fact he has no case. And now I'm deathly afraid.

* * *

_A/N: To be continued..._


	20. Waiting

I believe I know something of the struggles that Holmes goes through when his mind is inactive, though it is a different cause that has my mind warring between logic and emotion.

I do not know what time he left, but his bed appears to have been slept in for some time. But the breakfast tray was untouched when I woke.

As the clock ticks past ten, my depression is complete, and I fall into a restless sleep on the sofa. A myriad of thoughts plague my mind, the chief one being, I shall never see my best friend again.

* * *

_A/N: To be continued again…_


	21. Shock

It was with a yawn that I entered the sitting room the next morning, and with a gasp that I nearly fell down the stairs as my eyes caught sight of something lying on the floor near the door of the sitting room.

It was Holmes's coat, still wet and dripping bits of snow and ice on the hardwood floor.

"Watson?" I heard my friend's voice as he came out of his room, "Are you all right?"

I carefully regained my footing, and turned slowly to look at him, feeling every muscle in my body tense as I did so.

* * *

_A/N: To be continued again…_


	22. Miscalculation

I looked him over head to toe, assessing his condition, his well-being my first concern. And by all appearances he was fine. In fact, he looked almost happy. That did it.

"What on earth is wrong with you?!" I yelled at him suddenly.

"What?" he said, looking genuinely shocked.

"Where have you been?! Have you no consideration for the feelings of other people!"

The worry faded from his eyes and was replaced by dark, hardened steel. In the back of my mind a small voice was telling me I had made a grave mistake, along with another one, laughing maliciously.

* * *

_A/N: To be continued again…_


	23. Sad surprise

"Must I report all of my actions to you? You are not my doctor, nor my keeper," he said coldly.

"I…I'm sorry," was all I could muster, hoping I hadn't irreparably damaged our friendship.

"I came home to alleviate the fears I knew you must be having, Watson," he said quietly through narrowed eyes, a frown on his face that lesser men would have shrunken under. "I see though there is no point in trying to please you. It seems nothing I do is right," he finished, and turned on his heel and closed his door soundly behind him.

* * *

_A/N: To be continued again…_


	24. Use your brains, please

I stood with my jaw hanging open, shocked. I stepped forward with much effort and fell into my chair. The heat of the fire scorched my cheek and dried the small tears that had come unbidden to my eyes.

My spirit was crushed. What had I done? A moment of selfishness and emotional insecurity had quite possibly ruined the best and really only friendship I had ever had. Why couldn't I just let him work things out his way?

One of the largest obstacles in our friendship was the struggle to understand minds that worked entirely different from each other's.

* * *

_A/N: To be continued again… One more in this little sequence, then back to randomness._


	25. Simple

_A/N: There's 175 words in this one, mostly because I'm lazy... Hope you enjoyed. Any ideas for my next drabble?_

* * *

"Holmes?" I knocked on his door and entered. I knew he would consider it an intrusion, but I did not want to drag this on. "Please…I want to apologize—"

"Does nothing please you, Doctor?" he said, glaring at me. I felt lower than the mud from the Ridgeway crusting his boots.

"I'm sorry…" I wanted to explain my position, but really, what more could I say? Arguing the situation would accomplish nothing but possibly put further strife and distance between us. The last thing I wanted.

No…the last thing I wanted, was to hurt my friend. The look in his eyes showed the clear wound my words had caused. After all, his intent was kindness. The problems from days past no longer mattered.

After a long moment, Holmes sighed. "All right, Watson."

We looked at each other, our expressions eventually relaxing. A thought suddenly occurred to me.

"What on earth have you been doing in Enfield?"

He grinned. "I've just returned from Botany Bay."

"Botany Bay?"

"We've a case, my dear Watson."


	26. Deepest pain

Watson sat at his desk, defeated. Of all the wounded and sick he had treated, from the youngest child to the heartiest of men, there was still nothing as devastating to him as seeing his friend in pain.

And it was not even from an ailment, except that which continually plagued Holmes when he was without a case. But his humor was so black now that Watson suspected the very forces of hell were attacking his friend.

But the worst pain came when his efforts to help failed, and his friend callously turned his back and told him to leave.


	27. Worry

Some days were better than others. Some days he could almost convince himself he was looking into the familiar eyes of his friend. But something always happened to show him it was not so, and the façade of contentment would fall from both of their lives.

He retreated further and further per Holmes's request, and watched helplessly as he changed into a different person. He did not know how long he could stay idle, but respected his friend too much to disobey the order to stay silent. But he would not be a true friend if he simply watched the great mind's destruction, and so dreaded the day when he knew he would speak, and possibly lose his friend in the process.

For now, he would wait and pray for salvation in whatever form it might come, even appealing to Providence if it meant the restoration of his friend's soul.

* * *

_A/N: One hundred fifty words this time. A continuance of the last._


	28. Importance

He tried to block from his mind that there was an underlying problem that couldn't seem to be cured, and he focused on the present. Sometimes Holmes would say a few words, and other times he would clam up…_most_ times, he was totally silent, and reprimand his friend for offering help.

He also reprimanded him for worrying, which was exasperating to Watson. He wasn't a machine who could turn off his care at will, like his friend professed to be. But it displeased Holmes, so he kept the worry private. As long as it helped Holmes…that was what mattered.

* * *

_A/N: Another continuance of the last._


End file.
